


Fireworks

by junes_discotheque



Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Angst, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, No Actual Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-01
Updated: 2018-01-01
Packaged: 2019-02-25 23:26:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,273
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13223451
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/junes_discotheque/pseuds/junes_discotheque
Summary: Cisco sees fireworks as he's dying.





	Fireworks

**Author's Note:**

> (Mostly been lurking here but hey, I wrote a thing. I have a lot of feelings.)
> 
> More or less canon compliant with spoilers through the fourth midseason finale.

He sees fireworks as he’s dying.

 

Cisco’s pretty sure they’re not a hallucination. For one, he can hear people on balconies cheering down the street, yelling _Happy New Year!_ and _Good fucking riddance, 2017_. For another, each piercing _boom_ sends another jolt of agony slicing through his skull.

 

He’s definitely concussed. Which means he can’t open a breach out of here. And even if he _wasn’t_ concussed, there are still the deep gashes in both of his arms and down his right side, effectively immobilizing him. For a brief moment, Cisco berates himself for thinking he could take on this meta alone; the self-blame, by now, is a well-worn habit. One he’s been trying to break, he reminds himself.

 

Barry’s still in Iron Heights, since he’d been denied bail. Joe and Iris, who have been looking worse and worse the longer Barry’s imprisoned, had been kicked out of STAR Labs by an irate Harry and ordered to get some sleep. Caitlin--or rather, Killer Frost--is out at some club with Ralph. They’d taken the day shift while Cisco tinkered in his workshop, which left him with the night shift. (He also suspects they thought he might be a bit of a _downer,_ since Ralph found out that Cindy dumped him. Cisco had sworn him to silence, which means by now he’s sure everyone knows.)

 

They were still on call for assistance, but the metahuman alert hadn’t looked like a particularly difficult one.

 

_I should have been able to--_

 

Cisco bites his tongue and forces himself to stop. The metahuman he’d been after was a soccer mom in her late thirties who had apparently decided to take up jewel theft after her ( _very_ recent) divorce. (Cisco gets it.)

 

She was also, as Cisco found out, a proficient kickboxer with five-inch, razor sharp fingernails. He supposes he’s lucky she just wanted to evade arrest (for now) rather than actually kill anyone. Though, he thinks, as the ground beneath him gets wetter and stickier, he might end up bleeding to death in the snow anyway.

 

It feels like hours since he sent out his SOS signal, though Cisco knows the pain and the concussion and the cold is warping his sense of time. He’s not sure if anyone was around to receive it. And if not, all he can hope is that someone wanders by this alley and happens to see him lying here in the dark. Otherwise… Well. Not a great way to go out, and with him and Barry both down, he’s not sure how the rest team will be able to protect Central City on their own. Unless Wally agrees to come back, which given the way they all treated him--

 

Cisco shivers. The cold and wet is seeping through his Vibe gear. He makes a mental note to upgrade his jacket and pants, if he survives this--he knows if he were in the Flash suit, he wouldn’t be feeling the cold at all. Why had he done that for Barry, and not for himself?

 

( _He knows why._ )

 

It’s not that he wants to die. He’s never been suicidal, not really; he’s just… pragmatic. Maybe it’s a side effect of remembering having died in a few alternate timelines already. Or maybe he really is a little messed up. He knows he’s not as vital to the city as the Flash is (or even Killer Frost, now--Cisco’s been trying not to notice that she got a drink at Jitters before he did; it’s stupid and petty and there are larger concerns and he needs to _stop_ ). He knows most of CCPD would have preferred not to work with him while Barry was in the speedforce. Central City looked at Kid Flash with pride and a little exasperation but mostly affection for his youthful exuberance. They tended to look at Vibe with suspicion. Since Barry was arrested, those looks have only gotten worse.

 

( _Cisco berates himself for the thought. He’s being selfish and self-pitying, again. He needs to focus on helping Barry.)_

 

He’d been all too happy to go back to hiding in his lab after they finally got Barry back. No more passing headlines blaming him for metahumans he couldn’t quite catch. He wonders how Barry shook off his own failures so easily.

 

Not that it matters now.

 

The fireworks are pretty, at least. Blue and gold and silver and green flashing in the sky, curling delicately and twinkling like rain before burning out and vanishing. His arms are numb now, which he knows should be concerning, but at least the gashes aren’t burning. It’s almost peaceful.

 

Then blinding white light consumes his vision, and as he takes a deep breath and closes his eyes, Cisco thinks he hears his name.

 

~ * ~

 

He wakes up slowly.

 

First, he hears a soft beeping. Next, he feels an itching in his arms, and a suffocating warmth around his chest.

 

Finally, he manages to open his eyes. A white expanse stretches above him.

 

It takes turning his head to see a wall to figure out that he’s in the STAR Labs medbay.

 

“You _idiot._ ”

 

Cisco blinks. His head is still pounding, but luckily nothing like it was before. Harry comes into his field of vision, hair somehow more of a disaster than usual, arms crossed over his chest. He’s glaring.

 

“That’s not very nice,” Cisco croaks out. Harry doesn’t stop glaring, but he grabs a water bottle with a straw from the table next to them and angles it toward Cisco’s mouth.

 

“You almost _died,”_ Harry continues berating him while Cisco drinks. “You went out without backup, without telling anyone, against an _unknown_ metahuman threat--”

 

Cisco spits the straw out. “Barry does that all the time!”

 

“You’re not Barry.”

 

“Oh,” Cisco chokes, freezing. He feels numb all over. His face is growing warmer by the second, and he berates himself for reacting so _obviously_.

 

“Ramon, I--” Harry starts. He looks about as stunned as Cisco feels. _Great._ He braces himself for the apology, for the inevitability of his own forgiveness. But Harry just trails off awkwardly, his hands twitching in midair.

 

“I know I’m not Barry. I’m not _The Flash._ I just--I wanted to help. Even if I’m not strong enough.”

 

“That’s not what I meant,” Harry finally gets out. “You _are_ strong enough. I just meant--I couldn’t--I thought you were _dead_ , and I--” He runs his hands through his hair, which just makes the disaster on top of his head worse, and makes a weird flailing motion towards him. “I didn’t like it.”

 

Cisco frowns at him. “Uh. Thanks. Wait--” he realizes, suddenly-- “you were _scared_.”

 

“I wasn’t--”

 

“Yes, you were.” Cisco grins at him. “You _like_ me.”

 

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Harry says, but he won’t look at Cisco and his face is growing redder by the second.

 

Cisco sighs. He grabs at Harry’s wrist, the arm dangling by his side and not the one currently drawing circles in the air. Harry flinches but doesn’t pull away. He gapes at Cisco as Cisco presses his palm against his face. “I’m alive. You saved me.”

 

“Oh,” Harry says, and before Cisco can say anything at all, Harry’s lips are pressing, soft and dry, against his.

 

It takes about half a second for Cisco to kiss back, and another second or two for him to wonder _what the hell?_ and decide _well, what the hell._

 

Harry pulls away all too soon. “I heard about Cindy,” he says, his face inches from Cisco’s. “I’m sorry.”

 

“No, you’re not,” Cisco says, dragging him back down and nipping at his mouth. “Shut up.”

 

Happily, Harry obliges.


End file.
